I will be taking a break from my blogging probably until sometime in the fall. I want to be able to put my effort into writing of another sort.
Thank you all for reading and commenting. So until that next post I wish you all the best.
- dh
There is pretty good research about the benefits of journaling for emotional well-being after stress, crisis, or trauma. The catch is (well, there are a few) it should be done at least twice a week for at least three weeks AND the writing needs to focus on expressing the most intense and painful emotions AND it can feel worse before it feels better AND there is the anxiety about someone finding and reading the journal. I recently found an online product, Penzu, that seems to be a good tool with all the high-tech security etc..
By way of disclosure, I do get a free year prescription for anyone who uses this link to start using Penzu (there is a free version) but that’s really not why I’m posting this.
I just think it’s a good product. If you try it, let me know what you think.
Top 10 Regrets
I regret that I spent time with my kids.
Sometimes you find yourself blindly following a plan that you set out or someone set out for you, just because you feel like you should keep going.
I don’t want to regret continuing on blindly with this plan to post my top 10 regrets. So, I’ve decided to skip #9.
(Although, as the perspicacious among you have noticed, I haven’t really skipped it, since I wrote this.)
Top 10 Regrets
I regret that I held it together.
How here, in the deep emerald work of his hand,
eternally dreamed and eternally planned,
a sometime paradise fashioned for man
and woman to bear the first image and spark
in a world born from chaos, formless and dark?
Top 10 Regrets
Regret #6: I sang along in church.
This may be a very simple observation that you all have made before so forgive me if I have been slow to catch on.
I was a voice major in college and have always enjoyed singing in church, choirs, etc.. So, I always sang along in church. I liked to do it. And also felt like it would be rude or give the wrong impression to not sing along. I’ve been up on stage before leading singing and know that seeing people just standing there (or sitting) and not singing did not do anything good for the overall level of energy in the room.
But then there came a time in my life, a few years ago, after a significant loss when I was grieving and didn’t feel like I could sing. It just didn’t feel right and I don’t know if I was physically able to sing along – there was something that drained the energy out of me at just the thought of it. There was no song in me.
I know I have 5 more regrets to cover but I thought maybe it would be a good time to throw in some variety. I came across a blog lately that I think some of you might like. I haven’t been reading it for long but it looks worth checking out.
It seems that Loxlia is acquainted with pain and working hard to be acquainted with grace in the real world.
Take a look.
Top 10 Regrets
Number four is… I regret I tried to love God.
What ever could be wrong with that?
My second regret is that I tried to control my tongue.
Why would I regret that I tried to control my tongue? I’ve posted quite a bit on this blog regarding controlling the tongue, as I made a case for better communication, especially in couples.
See, for example:
The Freshwater Challenge from James,
Just learn to talk to each other? Really?
But, yes, I regret trying to control my tongue. Here’s why…
Top 10 Regrets
This post is about regret #1: I believed the sun would rise tomorrow.
I have almost always taken it for granted that I would wake to a new morning, sun and all.
Of course the sun will rise tomorrow and I will be here to see it, right?
William Tyndale was the first to translate the scripture from Latin to English so that people other than church leaders could read it. Translating scripture into the common language of the people was a crime in England and wherever else papal authority had enough influence. Even so, I’m pretty sure we would count “Bill” as one of the good guys. Still, after fleeing his home country, working in secret, and being betrayed more than once, this good guy was tied to a stake, strangled, and burned.
Stay tuned because I think there may have been one or two regrets on that list that surprised you. I may get a chance to explain.
But… maybe not.
You will notice right away that I have changed the look of the blog at bit. Please give me feedback about that by commenting on this post.
I also have begun to draw in some other writers to contribute under the name “Guest Author.” Some of these will identify themselves and some would rather not. Replying to your comments for these Guest Authors becomes rather complicated because of the… well, I won’t explain it all but the point is that they will usually not be able to respond to your comments except through me (167hours) and I will facilitate that when possible. But please feel free to leave comments for them. They will be read and the rest of us would like to read what you have to say also. So comment away! Please!
-David
In my profession, I work with people making their way through the circumstances of life. They are mostly, in my experience, good people, even honorable people, and very often people I come to respect greatly for the persistent work they have done in the making of their way in life. But, they also, without exception, are hurt people.
Hurts come
The hurts come
Having a brother serving in the Army, a father who served in WWII, and knowing the story of others who come back, I tried in this poem to capture what little I know about battle and the aftermath. My apologies to many of you who are far more knowledgable about combat and post-combat. I suspect it may seem almost childish compared to the awfulness of the actual experience.
In writing it I was surprised to find many aspects which seem analogous to any interpersonal conflict that grows intense enough.
I heard the long waves pound gently against the beach as I walked. I smelled the strong saltwater. I felt the fresh water wash my feet so that sand would not be tracked back inside.
Now, I hear the calm breathing of three children as they sleep in the living room. I listen closely and I still hear the waves pulsing. As the condensation slips away on the window overlooking the ocean I hear the “whispers” of a 11 year old boy playing a 5 year old boy in a game of “Sorry”. The coffee pot drips quietly, steadily, finally producing the smell. The smell of a new morning.
An article from a guest writer:
Sometimes it’s a gentle pull, other times the force is enough to lay you flat on your face. The undertow. The pull of the ocean. Ever since I can remember the ocean has been as much of my summer as popsicles, watermelon, and long drives. I have run down the same path to the Atlantic Ocean from our family’s house in South Carolina for years.
I grin as my feet remember the ocean floor, much like a reunion of best friends. The hard sand grows a little softer, the wetness and unknown creatures greet my feet like a handshake. One that lasts only as long as needed. It serves as a mere formality; a simple avenue to the real embrace: catching a wave. It’s simple: give in to the pull, enjoy the first wave, taste the salt, feel the sticky, cool ocean, and repeat. A relationship that never gets old.
I’ve been getting good feedback about the email subscriber option that was just added.
As a way of saying thanks for subscribing and getting your friends to subscribe, I want to send 2 free copies of the pocket-size book, The Other 167 Hours, to the person who becomes the 167th subscriber. That way you can keep one and give one to the person who told you about the blog. For privacy reasons, I won’t announce the names, but I will let you know when we hit number 167. I’ll contact the winner by the email address you provide when you subscribe.
167hours.net is just completing its first year and we are approaching 20,000 page views. Thanks again for reading and telling your friends.
I decided to add a nifty little tool, on the side bar to the left, that lets you get email notices whenever something new is posted. Frankly, I don’t mind you stopping by as often as you like just to check for new posts, but life gets busy and if a reminder will help, then it’s just the thing.
You supply your email address and you’ll get a link sent to you announcing each new post. That’s all you’ll get from it, no SPAM or strange emails.
Or, just stop by often.
Thanks to all of you, the readership of this blog continues to climb every month since we started. Down at the bottom of the main page there is a world map you can click on to see where people have been reading from around the world. 
Please continue to send links and tweets to your friends. And don’t be shy about leaving comments or suggestions for topics you would like to see addressed on the blog.
David Hamilton
